Nepenthe Rising

by John Triptych

  Erich clenched his jaw. “You’re right.”

  “If they suspect that Subject Zero may have something to do with an antecessor artifact, then they would need to find information pertaining to the subject in question.”

  Erich’s eyes opened wide. “Damn. Those pirates will try to get access to the Institute’s encrypted servers.”

  Hassan nodded. “Exactly, sir. The Science Institute maintains several databases in a number of space stations that would fall within the range of the Nepenthe or other pirate outfits. If we were to get our own assets in place, we may be able to thwart them.”

  Erich gave him a determined look. “Move the starry heavens and get our operatives in place right now. If the Nepenthe pops up in any of those locations, then we take her and get Subject Zero back.”

  “Very well, sir. What of Director Carerra’s offer for an alliance?”

  “Just pretend to go along with her, but we go with your plan for now.”

  12 Surprise Guests

  Kolob system consisted of a red dwarf star, orbited in varying degrees by a dense asteroid field and two gas giants. A number of space stations had been built over the years—despite the lack of habitable planets—due to its strategic location. Kolob was one of the gateways to the densely populated Gould Belt Region—the heart of the Union. In came a steady traffic of transports and liners regularly traversing across the system’s numerous outlying shadow zones, making their way towards the half dozen refueling stations orbiting the two jovian planets.

  Sitting in the captain’s chair at the bridge of the Amerigo, Garrett Strand leaned back on the added cushions and yawned. “What’s our ETA to Azusa Station?”

  Oana Florescu sat by the controls of the pilot’s console. She kept her eyes on the virtual readouts. “Approximately fifteen minutes, LT. They ought to be hailing us soon for the final approach.”

  “About freaking time,” Strand said before turning his head to look at the engineer’s station. “How are our guests, Sergeant?”

  Ripoll Keo remained seated at the back of the bridge. “All still in their quarters, LT. I can do a personal inspection if you want.”

  “No need,” Strand said. “Just make sure the seals around the hatches are locked tight.”

  “They are, LT. I doubled sealed them and even planted explosives on the outer frames with tripwire sensors. If they can somehow manage to open them up, the whole habitable section is gonna blow.”

  Strand sighed with frustration. “For crying out loud, you’ve gone too far again, Keo. Disarm the explosives. Now.”

  Keo held up his left forearm and keyed in a passcode to his wrist smartcom. “Yes, sir.”

  “We’re supposed to keep collateral damage to a minimum,” Strand said. “Our prisoners know the drill. If they cooperate then they don’t get hurt.”

  Zeno floated at the far end of the room, wires dangling from the back of his head and attached to the science vessel’s com-link system. “They’re hailing us now. Requesting code clearance.”

  “Here we go,” Strand said. “Send it, Zeno.”

  The synthetic remained taciturn as he sent in the codes. Comm-6 was the language of machines, and exchanges were instantaneous, with only the distances involved making any difference in time. “Code has been accepted. We have been permitted to dock.”

  Strand placed the compact laser pistol in his suit’s utility pouch in order to conceal it. “Okay, we’re in business. Oana, bring us in.”

  Keo was feeling hyped up again. They had been traveling at one-gee acceleration for the past several days, and he was eager for more action. “Can’t we go with you, LT?”

  “No,” Strand said. “Watch the prisoners, and for fool’s sake don’t kill them unless you have to.” He turned his attention back to the front of the bridge. “Oana, don’t forget to keep the reactor on full. Just in case we need to leave quickly.”

  “You got it, LT,” Oana said.

  The Amerigo docked in the lower ring of Azusa Station two hours later. Unlike the gravity wheel up above, this section had minimal spin in order to facilitate easier cargo handling using null gravity.

  Strand and Zeno came out through the airlock, sealed it behind them, and proceeded along the station’s hollow, pressurized spine. A simple maintenance bot had attempted to get inside the science vessel for a routine inspection in case the Amerigo needed any servicing, but Zeno had commanded it to go away.

  The young lieutenant followed just behind the synthetic man as they drifted closer towards the main wheel. “You think that would have aroused any suspicion?”

  Zeno continued to stare straight ahead. “Probably not. I told the unit that everything was in good working order.”

  “It didn’t try to identify you or anything like that?”

  “I updated the ship’s log with our biometric details and uploaded it during the hailing process. The station should recognize us as part of the crew.”

  Strand was aghast. “What? Wouldn’t that identify us after we get outta here?”

  “Don’t worry, the exploit I introduced into the scientific manifest at the station will be enough to corrupt their entire database. That would include records of all docked ships.”

  “You are one devious son of a gun, Zeno.”

  The synthetic reached the main upper landing, which led towards the gravity section. “Your love of archaic slang is noted, Strand.”

  Strand pulled himself onto the platform using the attached handholds. He could feel the tugging of gravity almost immediately. “You know where to go from here?”

  “Yes,” Zeno said. “The archives section is at the far spoke of the wheel. Once I plug myself in, we should get the full data stream in a matter of minutes.”

  Strand’s wrist smartcom began beeping. He gave Zeno a look of bewilderment before he decided to take the incoming call. “Hello?”

  The resulting holographic image materialized just above his wrist. A pale human male with a thick beard flashed a smile at him. “Captain Stavros, welcome aboard Azusa Station. I’m Dr. Yoshihiro Kamiki, the head of operations here. I’m sorry for not being able to greet you at the airlock, but we’re sort of busy at the command deck. Would you like to come up here and perhaps join me for some chow?”

  Strand hadn’t expected this. “Um, sure. I must tell you, I don’t have a lot of time, since we’ll be leaving within the hour.”

  “Oh, that is unfortunate. I was expecting to meet Captain Protagoras since he and I have been acquainted for years. Imagine my surprise when your ship’s crew manifest suddenly updated itself when we hailed your ship. Since you’ll be taking over from here on out I’d like to get to know you.”

  Strand’s eyes drifted to his side, looking at Zeno, who remained stoic. If they were going to pull this off, he needed to play along. It was obvious the synthetic had given him an assumed name, but he wasn’t sure what other details had been sent over to the chatty station chief he was conversing with. “Okay, maybe I could come up for a short while.”

  Kamiki chuckled. “Great, just take corridor six, it ought to lead the two of you right to us. Over and out.”

  Strand tapped his wrist device and turned off the hologram before staring at the synthetic once again. “What exactly did you send over to these guys?”

  “I merely copied and pasted several biographies together based on a number of deceased starship crewmen so there wouldn’t be any conflict with current crew databases.”

  “Oh great, so now I’m impersonating a dead guy?”

  “I must admit I wasn’t expecting this,” Zeno said. “Humans and other organics are quite unpredictable in their behaviors.”

  Strand rolled his eyes. “Alright, just tell me the basics of what you uploaded concerning my identity. I’m sure this loose-lipped moron of a station chief read it all.”

  “Full name is Daniel Stavros. Your homeworld is Tanis, in the Serpentis Region. Age is thirty-two. You got a scholarship to the Mount Olympus Academy on Mars and got you
r pilot’s license there. You’ve been employed by the Institute since last year after spending a decade crewing assorted freighters,” Zeno said.

  “Okay, that ought to be enough. What kind of a planet is Tanis?”

  “Arid. Mostly desert regions except at the frozen poles. Thin atmosphere of mostly carbon dioxide, so e-suits are required to go outdoors. Sort of similar to Mars in the early days, before it was terraformed by the Union, but with a gravity of eighty percent Earth standard.”

  Strand inputted all the information he was being given into his smartcom. “Alright, what about you and the rest of the crew? He might ask.”

  “My name would be Archimedes One Million Six Hundred Eighty-One Thousand Fifty-Six if he’s going to nitpick,” Zeno said. “I was recently activated after my earlier unit was lost in a space mishap. I didn’t upload the rest of the crew details, so you’ll have to make those parts up if he asks for them.”

  Strand sighed as he made it over to the adjoining spoke corridor. The ever-increasing gravity was now keeping his feet firmly on the floor. “Give me an excuse to get you into the archives.”

  The synthetic looked at him blankly. “I thought we were going to walk into the command deck and threaten them with our concealed weapons?”

  “Since this idiot is practically inviting me to the command area, we might as well play along, right? If he’s as dumb as I think he is then he might allow you access to where you need to go—without me having to point a laser pistol at his face.”

  Zeno keyed in his own com-link embedded behind his right ear. “One moment. Done.”

  “What’s done?”

  “I forwarded a request to the station’s AI network to access the archives. I cross-referenced an old query that was never completed and attached my fake identity to it.”

  “Alright, good work,” Strand said. “If I can’t convince him, I’ll ring you with my com-link.”

  “See you in a bit.” Zeno turned and proceeded towards another passageway, dutifully heading towards the archives.

  After a few minutes, Strand got to the outer gravity ring. His legs felt a little wobbly, but he was able to adjust quickly, and soon approached the command deck. Just as he got to the main door, the entryway opened and a nytini with a bright silver cyber-harness shuffled out into the corridor where he was standing.

  “Excuse me,” Strand said, walking past the alien before striding inside.

  Dr. Kamiki was sitting in front of a group of consoles in the middle of the room. The large transparent windows of the command area revealed the glowing red dwarf star in the far distance. Another space station could be seen in the background; a long line of navigation lights across the darkness indicated multiple spacecraft on a slow orbit, waiting in line to be refueled.

  Two other humans were on the other side of the room, seated behind their consoles, working feverishly and paying little heed to him. Strand mustered his best smile as he walked towards the station chief.

  Kamiki noticed him as he got close. The station chief got up and smiled while shaking his hand. “Thanks for accepting my invitation, Captain. I’m afraid we’ll have to eat here since something else came up. The Institute sent us a message asking for a full accounting of all downloads and visiting ships. I’ve ordered one of the worker bots to bring food over in a few minutes. I hope you don’t mind.”

  Strand kept smiling. “Not at all. I’m not really hungry anyway.”

  The main door opened again, and a humanoid robot walked inside, carrying a tray. It mechanically made its way over to a nearby counter and set it down before turning around and leaving again.

  Kamiki gleefully strode over to the tray of food, taking a large ceramic teapot and pouring its steaming contents into two cups. He offered one to Strand. “I hope you like tea. It’s a tradition among my ancestors.”

  Strand took the piping hot cup and held it close to his mouth. He was about to drink it before realizing it would probably scald his tongue. The strange aroma smelled of vaporized terrestrial grass. “I don’t think I’ve ever had this before.”

  Kamiki chuckled. “Well, it might be an acquired taste. Oh, I just got a request from your synthetic crewman to access the archives. A bit peculiar, isn’t it?”

  Strand’s muscles stiffened. He figured he would throw the cup and its contents at the station chief’s face to distract him before drawing his weapon. “What’s peculiar?”

  Kamiki took a sip from his cup before holding up his smartcom to see the holographic message. “Oh, just this request. It just sort of popped up. It says your synthetic crewmate Aristotle would like access to the restricted archive database. The request code checks out, but I could have sworn I remember receiving this exact same request last year, but it was never fulfilled since the synthetic in question never got onboard the station.”

  “Oh, you mean that one,” Strand said. “When Aristotle was assigned to my ship by the Institute, they asked me to bring him over here to fulfill the request.”

  “But why would the Institute do that? They already have everything in this station’s database.”

  Strand shrugged his shoulders. “I have no idea, I just follow orders. Perhaps there are some … discrepancies in the main archives and they just want to … ah, double check on all the research stations to make sure it’s all in sync.”

  Kamiki pursed his lips while tapping his smartcom. “Alright, why not? There, I’ve gone ahead and cleared it. Seems your synthetic is very efficient; he’s already downloading it.”

  A sense of relief washed over him. “Well, that’s Aristotle for you. He’s a new unit, and very eager to prove himself.”

  While the two of them conversed, the other two crewmembers, a man and a woman, turned and stared at them, their sensitive hearing picking up everything.

  Kamiki noticed the other two looking in their direction. He gestured at Strand to lean closer so he could whisper into his ear. “Oh, those two are brand new techs from the Institute, just transferred over a couple of days ago. Kruger and Garcia. They’re okay but somewhat nosy.”

  Strand grinned. “I know what you mean. One of my crewmen on the Amerigo has the same type of personality.”

  “Okay,” Kamiki said, his voice getting lower. “I did some research on your background. I know, I know, I guess I’m nosy too, but I keep things private.”

  Strand raised an eyebrow. What is he getting at? “Can I help you with something, Doctor?”

  Kamiki’s whispering seemed hesitant at first, but the true message eventually came out. “Well, you know, you did come from Tanis, and I’m sure you know about the local customs and all that over there, right?”

  Strand narrowed his eyes. Zeno didn’t tell him anything about this. “Could you be more specific?”

  Kamiki seemed to blush. “Well, you know, the kinky stuff they do on your homeworld. You see, I’m kinda into that too.”

  Strand was both contemptuous and intrigued. Keep playing along. He placed the cup of tea back on the tray. “I haven’t spent much time there since my childhood days. You need to enlighten me as to what you really want.”

  The station chief seemed surprised. “Oh? You never participated? I thought Tanisians were into that stuff since childhood?”

  Strand wanted to hit him, but kept his calm. “I, uh … my parents raised me by the ancient scriptures. They’re Mormons. They didn’t allow me to watch any vids.”

  Kamiki tapped his chin with his fingers. “Oh, I see. Well, I’ve read and heard about people from Tanis being pretty intimate with their holograms and pseudo-synths. There are plenty of brothels over there with bots that sort of …. ah, mimic humans, if you know what I mean.”

  “Right,” Strand said. “You mean sex bots. Those aren’t true AI though. They’re just simple AI machines, with limited interaction and thought processes. True synthetics by law must make their appearance different from humans; that’s why they have red- or purple-colored skin.”

  Kamiki nodded eagerly. “Yeah. Sorry for b
eing evasive about this, but I sort of developed a … fetish.”

  “A fetish?”

  “Yes,” Kamiki said. “You see, I had a sort of … relationship with Captain Protagoras. We’d get together every time his ship docked.”

  Strand snickered. “You’re a toaster poker?”

  Kamiki partly looked away in embarrassment. “I-I didn’t at first. But all the years I spent on this station, just looking at charts and numbers. It sort of got to me.”

  Strand shrugged. Zeno ought to be done by now. “I don’t care what other people do. Humping synthetics isn’t illegal. Yet it seems there’s a reason why you told me this.”

  “Yeah … I was going to ask.”

  Strand was getting impatient. “Ask what?”

  Kamiki blinked several times. “Could I … uh. I mean, I know you have to take your ship and go, but … could I spend a few minutes with your synthetic … in my quarters?”

  It took all of Strand’s willpower to prevent himself from bursting into laughter. After some barely suppressed chortling, he was finally able to compose himself. “Sorry, Doctor. I’m afraid Ze— I mean … Aristotle isn’t into that type of stuff. He’s an ardent follower of stoicism.”

  The station chief seemed to physically deflate. He looked down towards the floor, trying to hide his dejection. “Okay. No problem.”

  Strand was just about to tell him he needed to leave when he realized that both Garcia and Kruger had walked on over and now stood just a few meters away from them. He began to sense something was amiss. “Can I help you two?”

  Kruger, the slightly taller male, had a blank look in his eyes. His upturned mouth seemed to be in a perpetual sneer. “I’ve finished crosschecking your background files, Captain. Your identity doesn’t match anyone from the Science Institute.”

  Strand tensed up again. Who in the hell are these people? “Is this a joke?”

  Kamiki stood in between the three of them, holding up his free hand. “They already checked out. This is a routine upload into our servers. What are you two doing?”